The first time I was on Up The Pucks (remember that podcast?), the guys presented me with a question, had I ever come face to face with sexism as a hockey or punk fan. And I could confidently say that, no. Nine times out of ten, people are pretty whatever about me being a fan, and those few exceptions, amend their opinions of me fairly quickly. Or I just stop listening to them.

And it really comes as no surprise to anyone that I took the day off to watch Team USA play Team Canada in the semi-finals of the Olympics. It’s two pure NHL teams facing on international ice to battle it out. No local guys, no college players, no hometown heroes for Sochi to root for, out on that ice for 60 minutes playing for their country. And this is where the issues of my fandom occurs. Never once did people care what I am packing in my pants but rather what I’m packing in my suitcase. I’ve found being an American fan of a Canadian sport has caused me more grief than anything.

I need to stop judging people, things, bands, whatever based on a three second impression. Because lets face it, if I was to do that with a band that describes themselves as “We're a Post-Parkour band making pizza tunes since Two Thousand and Something.” on BandCamp I would have never listened beyond the sound of me shutting off my speakers. I don’t want to say “penisloaf” but yes.

But really, what would be the point of this review if I just left it at “penisloaf”? I’ve written some dumb posts but that would probably take the cake. Or loaf. Instead, may I introduce you to Holy City Zoo, a local punk band, and the inaugural effort to bring more bands to Up The Pucks.

Part of the Tiny Giant Artist Collective (the Collective includes The Front Bottoms, Pentimento, and The Nico Blues), the New Brunswick quartet has been hitting the local scene hard since 2010 and it’s hard to not like them. Hell I’ll freely admit it. Y’all know me, I was asked to stop reviewing shows because I literally saw the same 4 bands over and over. And here I am, willing to let Joe, AJ, Frank, and Brian to to the sacred space of my headphones.

On February 7th, Holy City Zoo released their latest single, Grandview Terrace, clocking in at just under 6:20 it’s one of their longest song to date. In previous albums, like Nobody Sells for Less and Everybody Sells For More, they followed a more traditional punk style of under 3:00 and done. Grandview Terrace has the guitar precision of Fall of Troy but the vocals of early Taking Back Sunday.

The words “Holy shit Dead Kennedys” might have escaped my mouth as Everybody Sells For More starts. Sure, the song titles evoke the wordplay found on a Fall Out Boy album, but these songs are anything but boy band emo pop punk. The vocals on Givin’ Him The Business are eerily similar to Jello Biafra, that flat but powerful sound that keeps the record on repeat.

The sound ebbs into a more Chiodos sounding group, but without that needed to dress like this:

But really, stop reading my words and head over to their BandCamp page and give it a whirl, they have more releases than just the three mentioned. Make sure you check out the evolution of the band, all of their work is well worth the listen and a few bucks if you're feeling generous.

Don’t like their music? Then hit me up on the Facebook page, Twitter, or email and submit your local band for next month’s feature.

Minor league teams fold with semi-regular occurrence. Most wait until the off-season to do so, but occasionally, the costs associated with running a pro franchise grow to levels too big to endure and you have a situation like the San Francisco Bulls. The ECHL(AA level hockey) team announced to season-ticket holders on Monday afternoon, with three months left in the season, they were ceasing operations immediately, via an email obtained by CSN Bay Area’s Kevin Kurz.

I think that as fanatics of both hockey and punk rock, we've all been collectors of something at some point in our lives. When I was in middle school, I remember having a lucky charm in my pocket when I was in two state-level National Geographic Bee competitions: a rare, die-cut and numbered Dominik Hasek card that I'd pulled from a pack of Upper Deck. These days, I've given up on cards, and I collect records instead. Sometimes I debate getting back into it, though, especially given how easy it seems that I could buy a card with a piece of a sweater my favorite player wore in a game.
I'm not the only one that thinks that way, thankfully. The fine gents behind Rochester, NY's Secret Audio Club label recently announced and launched Wax Packs, a limited edition of 10 7" records, sold and packaged much like you'd find hockey cards at your local store.